


An Intervention

by LawrIsNotMocked



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Attempted Murder, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Javert saves Valjean, M/M, Violence, attackers, fight, hero - Freeform, javert is a badass, valjean is in javert's debt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrIsNotMocked/pseuds/LawrIsNotMocked
Summary: Valjean gets jumped, Javert intervenes and is just like, super good at his job.  Don't bring a Javert to a knife fight, apparently?





	An Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going crazy with all the posting! Hope you're enjoying it. Please leave comments/suggestions if you'd like! :) Also, hurrah, I have no idea how to format quotes and dialogue when mixed with actions and stuff! Enjoy my weird spacing! Good luck figuring out who is saying and doing what! 8D

Jean Valjean was walking home from a casual stroll through the local public gardens one evening. The temperature was pleasant and warm, and the scent of flowers wafted through the air. The perfect end to a lovely summer’s day. The sun was setting, casting golden and purple rays of light lazily over the darkening sky.

Valjean hummed as he sauntered along, hands in his pockets, mouth turned up in a relaxed smile at the good weather.

“Good evening, monsieur.”

Valjean was slightly startled at the voice alongside him; he hadn’t seen or heard anyone approach him.

“Good evening!”

“Pleasant weather tonight, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.” Valjean was vaguely wary of the stranger making small talk with him, but he didn’t look dangerous and acted friendly enough. Javert was always telling him to be more cautious of strangers, though… like a mother, Valjean thought, and almost laughed out loud.

“May I ask monsieur for a favor?” 

There it was. Valjean figured the man wanted something. Now he’d ask for money. And Valjean would probably give it. He was a very charitable man, after all. “What is it, my friend?” 

Suddenly the man grabbed Valjean by the lapels, pushed him into a wall, and demanded all of Valjean’s money. 

“Of course I would help you! You don’t need to use force.”

“I believe we do.” 

We? Then out of nowhere, 4 more men ran up; 2 helped hold Valjean, 1 punched him square in the jaw, and 1 stood watch, while the original attacker pulled out a knife. Valjean’s eyes widened in surprise at the sudden ambush and coughed, a little blood dripping down his lips. The punch must have cut his lip. “You don’t need to do this! Take it! I’d have given it to you anyway.”

“Oh but good sir, we intend to take a bit more than that. Why else would I need 4 of my best men with me?”

“Come now, surely there’s no need for-“ This was cut off by a kick to his abdomen. Valjean gasped for air and tried to curl over in pain, but was being held too tightly by the henchmen to even do that. Valjean was very strong, probably stronger than most of these men individually, or maybe even a few of them at the same time… but not 5 men together. He knew better than to even try. He might yet get out of this alive… but why was there no one else on this street passing by to witness this?! Was he really going to die like this? At least he could know that his attackers would be found and sentenced quickly, and his death wouldn’t go unavenged. Javert was the finest officer around and was always determined to seek justice.

“There is absolutely a need. We can’t have you running off and blabbing to the police, now, can we? Pierre, check his pockets, take anything you find.” The henchman did as he was told. “Now I shall do the honors. I assume we’re still clear, yes, Henri?” The man keeping guard nodded. “Good.” 

With a twisted smile, the leader stepped forward and in one quick motion, raised his knife and swung it down towards Valjean’s throat. Valjean squeezed his eyes shut, and waited for the pain which did not come. 

Instead, a loud thud and a shriek. He didn’t think that sound had come from him, but if not, then – he opened his eyes to see Javert in his uniform, standing above Valjean’s assailant, his nightstick in his hand, raised threateningly. 

“Javert!” 

Javert ignored him. “You are all under arrest.” 

At that, 3 of the standing men lunged at Javert, and one of the remaining men who’d been holding Valjean pulled out a knife as well and swung it at Valjean, who was able to pull just enough away, but the blade still hit his shoulder. Javert dodged the 3 as he himself lunged at the man with the knife. Valjean cried out in pain. Javert took a hard swing at the knife-wielder with his nightstick and hit him in the arm with well-practiced aim. A sharp cracking sound and pained shriek, then the sound of a knife clattering to the ground. Valjean charged at one of the 3 men who were nearly on top of Javert, and tackled one to the ground. Javert turned to club one, then somehow gracefully and fluidly ducked down, grabbed the knife, and turned to the last man, who was about to strike Javert, and lodged the knife in his leg. When the man screamed, he took yet another swing at Javert, who easily stepped back, smirked, and ducked behind him, wrapping an arm around his neck. “You’d better not try anything else, or you’ll find I’m not terribly forgiving.” 

The man growled and tried to turn, but the inspector held him tightly.

“You gypsy scum,” he hissed.

Javert laughed a hollow laugh into the night air… air that had seemed warm a moment ago, but made Valjean (now atop the man he’d tackled) shiver. “Ohh, not nice. Let’s make things easier, shall we?” 

Valjean watched in horror as Javert increased the pressure around the man’s neck and slowly eased him to the ground as the man went limp. Javert looked up to see Valjean’s reaction and smirked. “He’s just unconscious. Don’t look at me like that! As though I’d kill someone, me, an officer of the law! Lord,” Javert huffed, exasperated.

“Javert, you saved me.”

“I’m sure you could have handled it, but I happened to be passing through this area on my patrol.”

“I’m not sure I could have. You saw that man was about to cut my throat!”

“You’re strong. You’d have managed to escape somehow." Then under his breath, "You've always managed to before."

Valjean ignored the comment. “Javert, maybe one on one, or two on one, but 5 men is a bit much. I think they really had me… I thought I was going to die.”

“Hush.” While they were talking, Javert had handcuffed all the men. “It looks like they got your shoulder, though.” Javert frowned and knelt down to evaluate the wound. “It doesn’t look too deep, but let’s have a doctor take a look.” He pulled a small kit out of one of his pockets, and applied some ointment and gauze to the cut.

“Thank you. For everything. Truly, you did save my life, and I am in your debt.”

“Let’s just say we’re even.”

Valjean laughed, realizing what Javert meant. “I suppose we can say that.”

After taking the assailants to the local police station, writing reports, and having a doctor come to see Valjean’s injury, it was a long, late night. Finally they were readying for bed, and Valjean admired Javert’s shirtless form.

“You’re an impressive inspector, Javert,” Valjean said, coyly.

“I’d like to think I’m not just some gypsy scum, you know,” Javert replied, his eyes sparkling. Valjean could hear a lilt of humor in his voice.

“Seriously. You’re amazing.”

“Not nearly as amazing as you.” Javert came over, now dressed in nightclothes, and laid a gentle hand on Valjean’s shoulder. Valjean kissed that hand.

“I mean it. I’ve never seen you at work before, and… it was quite something.” 

He thought he saw Javert flush as he turned away. “I just do my job.”

“Well, I’m thankful you do. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

“You need to carry some sort of weapon on you if you go out in the evening, Jean. How many times must I tell you this?” 

Valjean laughed, remembering how earlier, he had thought about this exact conversation they’d had several previous times. “I suppose now I should.”

“You can’t trust people. You’re too kind and naïve.”

“I like to not assume things.”

“You should. This city is crawling with crime at night.” 

Valjean frowned, not liking to think about such things. “I suppose.”

“Please. For my sake. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be passing by. Though I do truly think you could have taken them…”

“Javert, please. I told you, I’m not that strong.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. I’ve seen what you’re capable of, Monsieur le Maire.” 

Valjean laughed again at the reference, then sighed, “Oh, Javert.” 

After they finished getting ready for bed, Valjean turned out the lights and settled in next to Javert. In a soft, silky voice, the inspector quietly asked, “Care to show me what else you’re capable of?”

Valjean smiled and replied, “Anything for you, my love.”


End file.
